Fight or Flight: The 99th Annual Hunger Games
by Ellii101
Summary: *SYOT CLOSED* After Katniss and the other rebels are killed by President Snow, the Games continue. Hundreds of choices to be made, but when it comes down to it, will it be fight or flight? T for Hunger Games and paranoia.
1. District One Reaping

**Jasper James, D1**

Fwip, thud. Fwip, thud. A flick of my wrist sends a pair of silver-bladed knives into the chest and forehead of the dummy. My victim will be dead before they know I'm even there.

Mother and Father don't know I'm here, they're probably still asleep. They don't know how frequently I train, and I'm sure they wouldn't like it if I were to tell them. Not that I care anyway. It's my life; it's all just another game.

It's busy at the Academy, even at this unsocial hour of the morning. If course it is, it's Reaping Day. Everyone with even a single brain cell will be spending their morning in this enormous sweaty room, attempting to cram in some last minute knowledge or training before they choose the tributes that are presented the honour of representing District One in the 99th Annual Hunger Games.

Many people hope they aren't chosen though, I'm sure the citizens of Ten and Eleven would rather eat nightlock than enter the Games. Anyone in the Academy would jump at the chance.

That's why I'm the perfect tribute. That's why I'm going to volunteer today. It's my penultimate year, I'm seventeen now.

I throw the smallest knife at the nearest dummy and it lodges in the abdomen. I wipe my face and the back of my neck on the towel we are provided and toss it aside. I won't be coming back to the Academy again. Not with my current status anyway.

Chalcedony saunters past, her blonde hair falling to her shoulders and bright eyes glancing at me before looking back down to the machete in her hand. I've seen the damage people can do with those things in the recaps we watch in school sometimes.

"You sure you should be carrying something as lethal as that around, Chalce? I mean, it's pretty early in the morning, you might not be focused," I smirk, raising a blond eyebrow.

"Shut up Jasper," she practically snarls, "I could've killed you so many times already before now. Those pretty little knives won't help you against my baby."  
Chalcedony throws the knife into the air and catches it again by the handle.

"I'm sure you could've done honey," I say, my voice as patronising as possible. "Anyway, as much as I'd love to stay and compare weaponry, I have to look my best for the cameras. It's okay, you don't have to make any effort. They won't go to you much anyway; you'd smash them with that ugly thing you call a face."  
Chalcedony scowls and walks off. She tosses the machete aside and a twelve year old squeals before leaping aside so as to avoid having his feet sliced off. I laugh and make my way out of the Academy.

With no time to go home and prepare myself for the Reaping, I just head straight to the centre of our district and sign in, in all my sweat covered glory. Already, with still half an hour left to go, the prime volunteering spots are taken so I settle with second best, making a mental note to be quick on my feet. I'd have to be, with this many people in front of me.

**Chalcedony Ellis, D1**

My encounter with Jasper has made me even more determined to slit his throat in the Games. He's made no secret about the fact he's planning to volunteers this year and so am I. Only he doesn't know yet.

I make my way home, a collection of insults building in my mind that I can whisper in his ear as the life slips from his body. The dreams about it have been coming thick and fast since I announced to my parents I would be volunteering this year. They weren't overly surprised; we have a history of volunteering in my family.

My house is only a few minutes from the Academy, so I'm left with at least half an hour to ready myself for the cameras. Not that I'll be remembered for my Reaping outfit. It'll be the murders I commit that will be my legacy.

After a quick wash, cleansing my skin of the sweat from the Academy, I dress in my Reaping outfit. The silky emerald material complements my eyes perfectly and the leather brogues that adorn my feet complete the outfit. It isn't as grand as Beryl's outfit always is, but Mother doesn't have to spend half of her wardrobe allowance on training each year like she does with me.

Despite the thick, humid air, I feel myself cold with dread, as if the reality of what I'm going to do is finally dawning on me. But I force myself towards the District Centre, Beryl on one side and my parents on the other. I find myself running my palms along the silk dress and am horrified to find they just slide straight across.

I'm too absent-minded to feel Beryl wrap her arms round me, her fifteen year old figure pressing against mine, and too absent-minded to feel the Peacekeeper's hand on mine, drawing blood on my index finger. I'm too busy locking eyes with Jasper and find myself returning his cruel smirk.

The escort rises and grins, in her annoying peppy accent, "Hello District One! I hope you're as excited as I am! As our Mayor is currently unable to attend the Reaping due to a terrible loss, I shall be reading the Treaty of Treason this year!"

I nudge the girl next to me, whom I know as she is in my class in school, and we giggle. The Mayor's daughter was Reaped and killed in the Bloodbath of last year. She was a disappointment to the district though, so she deserved to die really.

We continue to giggle and gossip through the entire reading and only stop when the escort, whatever her name is, announces she is to call the names. That's when we both run for the stage, yelling the famous words, "I volunteer!"

"It's my year," I hiss at her as she scratches my arm in a frantic attempt to get ahead. A well aimed shoe to the knee sends her to the floor and I focus ahead.  
Suddenly, I am knocked aside by a small girl of no more than fourteen. I push myself faster and jump up the first two steps, forcing my sweaty palm into her face in a desperate attempt to get ahead.

The escort looks shocked. Two is famous for its violence, not us in One! Even so she pleasantly asks me for my name and I smile as sweetly as I possibly can.

"Chalcedony Ellis."

**Jasper James, D1**

A hide a small smirk as Chalcedony's eyes glance over me as she stands next to Fedora. Don't react, I tell myself, you'll be up there soon, breaking her wrist as she shakes your hand.

Fedora's hand delves into the crystal ball again and I am the only one who declares I am volunteering. There was really no need for anyone to write the thousands of names that are in there, considering we both volunteered.

I am given a wide path in order to make my way over to the stage. i find myself smirking at Chalcedony as I climb the stairs, without the need to kick someone in the knees and then push a kid out of the way using my palm.

"Shake hands then!" Fedora tuts, "It's good manners to acknowledge your partner!"

I grab her small hand in mine and squeeze as the crowd behind us begins to cheer and applaud. My eyes search the crowd as I smile, eventually landing on my parents.

I'll win, I promise them mentally, then you'll be ashamed you ever doubted me.

* * *

**A/N: Back in business baby! So yeah, welcome to my newly returned SYOT and all that jazz. I'd really appreciate if you just left a little comment, even something like 'This sucks, please delete it now or I'll come and murder you' would be greatly loved. It would give me a laugh too! But obviously, criticism is accepted, encouraged and listened to. What did you think of the length, the characters, the writing style? Thanks so much for reading! **


	2. District Two Reaping

**Jason Shaw, D2**

The first thing I do when I wake up is check the time. One look out the window confirms it is a little past sunrise. The first rays of sunlight stain the sky, pinks, oranges and yellows. Absolutely perfect for a morning jog before the Reaping.

I don my training outfit, a set of loose fitting clothes and a pair of worn shoes, moulded to fit my feet perfectly. At only fifteen, I think I've stopped growing. I haven't had to change my training outfit in a year or so.

When I step onto the grass outside our small house, there is a quiet crunch as I step onto the frost that follows a particularly cold night in Two. We get those occasionally, as we live in the mountains. I start my jog, heading East to the school, then turning right so that I'm running North, then looping round the back of the lower-class portion of the district so I get back to my house. The three mile jog takes around twenty minutes and by the time I'm finished, my breathing has become rhythmic and my pulse has risen.

Normally I'd do another lap, but I can't this morning. I have my training to do, my last minute training in the event that I am in fact Reaped. I mean, it's unlikely, there's always some bloodthirsty Career to volunteer and take my place isn't there? I hope so.

I scrub myself clean and twist the heat up slightly, feeling the tingle as the blood pumps through my veins. If I end up going into the arena with a boiling hot climate I'll need to be prepared. We're at a disadvantage compared to a lot of the other districts on that factor, especially Four and Eleven. We're at a disadvantage compared to a lot of the other districts on that factor, especially Four and Eleven.

The water stops and I curse quietly under my breath; must be the pipes iced up real bad or something. Mum and I, we're not exactly the richest in the district, but we're not the poorest either. Nothing compared to the lesser districts. She works in one of the stone quarries and has some idea that I'm to join her in three years when I'm out of the reaping ages. When I'm finally safe, in her opinion.

It's always been just the two of us. Only two residents of the Shaw household since I can remember. Mum always said it was a short summer romance that left her pregnant with me and that my dad, whoever it was, doesn't even know I'm his kid. It doesn't bother me all that much. We've never needed anyone to take care of us; I'm the man of this household.

I step out of the warm bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around me as I hobble through the house looking for my outfit. It's new, a crisp white shirt with emerald green stitching and dark trousers. They're free of needlework, thankfully. A new shipment from Eight, according to Mum.

"Jase?" Mum calls, her light voice echoing through the house as she wakes up an hour after I do.

"I'm in my room," I call back.

She wanders in, the auburn hair I inherited from her in an untidy mess of curls around her face. She's smiling, even her eyes light up, as she scans outfit before nodding her approval. "It's beautiful, don't you think? I don't think you could have fit it better yourself. Do you like it Jason?" Mum's eyes search my face, searching for some sort of approval from her only child.

"I love it Mum. Thank you so much," I whisper, taking her in my arms and hugging her small figure close to me. I inhale the smell of vanilla, her favourite scent.

If I am Reaped, it'll be the thing I miss the most.

**Kayla Wilson, D2**

"Promise you'll never leave me," Susan whispers, her fair hair the complete opposite of mine. "Please, Kayla, promise me. I won't be able to live any longer if you aren't with me."

I can't say no to her. I love her too much to be able to deny her of happiness. Lying on my bed, her green eyes locked on mine, our fingers entwined for what I hope is forever.

"I promise Susan," I whisper back, my voice as straight as I can manage; "I promise I'll stay by your side through thick and thin. They'll think differently of us and you'll be damned if I don't."

She smiles, a sad smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Like she doesn't quite believe what I'm saying is true. I've never given her a reason to doubt me, as far as I can remember. Three years together and I've never lied to her, something I doubt few couples in Two can say honestly.

"We need to get ready Kay," she says, gently removing her fingers from mine and leaning forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you in the square at eleven." And then she's gone, pattering down the stairs, out the door and into the streets of our district.

My parents don't know about Susan and me; they still think we're best friends. I don't think anyone truly understands how much we love each other. I know both of us, despite never having had a conversation with her about anything like this before, would quite willingly give our life so the other can continue on with her life. Not that either of us could have a complete life with the other one absent.

I quickly dress into the simple dress that I wear to school sometimes. Unlike home, my private school knows all about Susan and never hesitates to make jokes about it. Well, more like snide comments, but it never stops the stinging no matter what name you give them.

Mum and Dad walk with me to the District Square, our silence reflecting our dislike for the Games. I don't train and mention of the Games are forbidden in my house. If I am indeed chosen, it will be no surprise to me, if nobody else, if I am slaughtered in the Bloodbath. I sign in andweave through the crowd to find Susan. Our dresses match, just like our hairstyles. Two long braids that hang down the sides of our faces, two in blonde, two in raven black.

"You almost missed it," Susan says and my attention turns to the stage where Mayor Hitchcock has already begun the mandatory reading of the Treaty of Treason. Instinctively, I zone out, shuffling closer to Susan so our shoulders touch. Well, her shoulder touches the middle of my upper arm.

I am pulled back to reality by a quiet moan next to me.

"Susan Greene? Susan, where are you honey?" the escort, Cerise Talbot, I think, calls.

Time slows down. My heart seems to be beating the speed of a hummingbird's and I pull her back and wrap my fingers round Susan's wrist. "I volunteer! I volunteer for Susan Greene!"

"Kayla, no!"

"I promised Susan, and I won't break a promise!" I yell as the Peacekeepers pull me away and force me up the stairs, one ditching subtlety and opting just to jab me in the back with his gun. That's not the reason my eyes sting with tears though.

I know I won't return, despite my promises. I have lied to Susan for the first, last and only time.

**Jason Shaw, D2**

If I were to know the two girls, I would probably pity them. But I don't, so I'm busy thinking about her survival options, her odds of winning. Pretty slim, for a Two girl.

"After that heart-wrenching display of love, allow us to continue... Gentlemen second..." Cerise's hand plunges into the second glass ball and pulls out a same. My heart leaps into my throat as three syllables are read out.

"Jason Shaw. Any volunteers?"

"No!" I call, my voice echoing out around the District Square, bouncing off the buildings that line the area. "I'm going in and I'm going to win." By this point I'm stood next to the two girls, my arms in the air as I grin at my adoring public.

A single, tear stained face stands out though. Mum smiles. A smile that says 'at least you have what you wanted'.

She's right; I do.

**A/N: So very sorry everyone who thought I abandoned this story. I haven't, but I've just been really stressed for a while and unfortunately, studies come before writing. But yeah, I'm back and hopefully I'm back for good. Sorry for taking so very long to update, I'll try my utmost never to let this happen again. So yeah, please review, merci! **


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